For Angelo (Full-Length Standalone Italian Billionaire Romance) (17 page)

She looked at him in acute torment.

He tried repressing his amusement, but it was impossible.

The moment he smiled, she realized that he was just being sadistic, and she cried out, “Angelo!” But she wasn’t really mad, and she knew he knew it, too.
 

Angelo flashed a grin at her, and her toes curled.

Oh gosh, she was so easy where this man was concerned.

“Promise me, will you, my Lane?”

Promise what?”

“That you won’t worry.”

She shrugged.

“If you promise me you won’t worry, I’ll drop by your room and read you a bedtime story before you sleep.”

She said immediately, “Deal.”

He laughed. “I was joking.”

She shook her head. “But you already said it, so you can’t take it back.”

Angelo was exasperated and amused at the same time. “It was a joke.”
 

A mulish look entered her eyes.

He sighed. “Alright, my Lane. It’s a deal.”

“And you won’t pretend to forget your promise?”

He knew she was just teasing him, but the words backfired on both of them.

A sliver of a memory came to him.

Jaike, a tremulous smile on her lips, her gaze filled with hurt confusion at the way he kept standing her up—

And during their last phone call as a couple, on what would be the night of their breakup, she had asked haltingly, ‘You promise you won’t forget this time?’

“Angelo?”
 

Lane’s voice drew him back to the present.
 

I’m a goddamn fool,
he thought. Returning Lane’s smile, he said lightly, “Of course I won’t forget.”

And he didn’t.

He simply chose to break it.

****

Lane sat on the floor, her back against the door. It was close to one in the morning now, and there had been no sign at all of Angelo coming anytime soon. Biting her lip, she reached up for the knob and tried it for the nth time—

From the other side of the door, Julieta said incredulously, “Seriously?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled as her hand dropped back to her lap. “I couldn’t help it.”

The painful note in Lane’s voice was impossible to ignore, but Julieta told herself that she was doing the right thing, and not just because she was paid to follow Angelo’s orders. Tonight’s revelry was so much more depraved than usual, and she couldn’t bear thinking of exposing Lane to it, with the way the younger girl was so obviously enamored with the world’s greatest idiot.

Damn you, Angelo Valencia.

She felt like she was close to selling every piece of her soul to the devil the longer she spent having to act as Lane’s jail warden.

Checking her watch, she said, “It’s really late.”

“I know.”

“So you should get some sleep.”

Pause.

“He promised he’d drop by.”

Julieta coughed uneasily. “Yeah, well—”

“And that he’d read me a bedtime story.”

“For fu—ef’s sake, Lane,” Julieta said exasperatedly. “I’ll read you a story if that’s all you want.”

Another pause.

“It won’t be the same.”

Damn you, Angelo Valencia,
Julieta thought again, noticing the way Lane’s voice broke in the end.
 

“How about I read you a story
and
I’ll call you ‘my Lane’ too—”

“Julieta!”

“I just think it’s better if you simply forget he promised you anything,” she protested. “Can’t you see he’s forgotten his promise—”

“But earlier, when you told me stories about Angelo,
you
were the one who told me he
never
forgets his promises.”

Shit.
It was Julieta’s turn to pause, and she thought again,
Damn you, Angelo Valencia.
She said finally, “Well, maybe this instance, he has.”

But it was a lame answer, and they both knew it.

****

The night throbbed with music and near-naked bodies grinding against each other, but Angelo found himself completely immune to all of it. All he could do was glance at the clock, and every time he did, he would wonder if she was awake or asleep.

But she had to be sleeping now, shouldn’t she?

It was late. She had to be sleeping. But if she wasn’t, then she must have realized he was standing her up.

Just like he had with Jaike.

His chest tightened at the thought, but he told himself it was for Lane’s sake he was doing this.
 

Just like before, too, and he was hurting Jaike for her sake.

But a small voice told him he was lying about Lane.

His gaze slid back to the clock.

Was it too late to go to her? Was it too late for him?

He turned towards the stairs and was about to take a step forward when, behind him, Angelo heard a familiar voice call out his name.

Jaike.

She had really come.

He turned to her, expecting his ex-girlfriend to be in the arms of her husband, but instead he found her alone.
 

The shock made him go still, but he recovered a moment after and met her halfway, saying smoothly, “I’m glad you could make it.” He started to bend down to kiss her cheek by way of greeting—

Caramel brown eyes flashed in his mind.

Angelo straightened abruptly and offered Jaike his hand to shake instead.

Jaike blinked at it, but he pretended not to notice. Finally, she shook it, asking uncertainly, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course.” He looked behind her, expecting to see her husband to appear any moment.
 

“Derek’s not here,” Jaike said.

He blinked. That was
not
the Derek Christopoulos he knew.

“He thought it would be better if I came alone tonight, but…” She made a face. “He also said this is the
first
and
last
time that’s going to happen. You know how he is. He thinks everyone’s after me.”

“I’m sure he’s not wrong,” he said politely.

But Jaike only laughed his words off. “That’s just your good manners speaking, and we both know it.” She paused, and the silence between them gradually became awkward.

“Would you like to go to the study?” he asked finally. He expected her to refuse, but she surprised him by nodding.

When they were inside his study, he offered her a choice of drinks, and again she surprised him by asking for a popular type of mocktail. After relaying her request to the staff, he told her, “You’ve changed.”

“For the worse, right? My husband’s a bad influence.” But a fond smile played on her lips as she spoke. As he took his seat across her, she murmured, “You’ve changed, too, you know.”

He only shrugged, murmuring, “Everyone does.”
 

Although Angelo’s tone remained polite, Jaike also detected a note of warning in it. She pretended ignorance, though, saying, “This whole party scene…it’s not like you at all.” She bit her lip, thinking about all the stories she heard over the years about him. And to think she had been so naïve, believing they were just rumors.

He said quietly, “It’s not your fault, Jaike.”
 

Jaike was startled.
He really did know her well
, she realized, and the knowledge was bittersweet.

Someone knocked on the door, and at Angelo’s acknowledgment, a staff member came in with a tray bearing drinks. She murmured her thanks and took a sip, using the time to muster the courage she needed to do what she came for.

When Jaike heard the door close behind the staff member, she put her drink down and blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Angelo’s face became inscrutable. “There is nothing for you to apologize for.”

“We both know there is.” She swallowed, knowing that what she had to say next would cause them more pain. But even so, she forced herself to meet his gaze as she said jerkily, “I’m sorry for forcing you to be the bad guy.”

He went still at the unexpected words.

“Everyone thinks Derek and I have this great love story, and none of them realize that one of the reasons why it’s like a fairytale is because you forced yourself to be the villain.” Jaike lowered her head. “And I never apologized for that. I’m sorry for allowing you to…to c-care for me because you were safe. I’m sorry for forcing you to do things that weren’t—”

“Enough, Jaike.” His voice was firm. “You didn’t force me to do anything. Whatever I did or say then, it was all my choice.”

She only looked at him, and he read everything she couldn’t say in her eyes.

He said quietly, “I’ve moved on. And if you think the life I’m leading now is because of you – maybe it is, but it’s not the way you think. The last time we talked, you told me that I never allowed you to see the real me. And you were right. So now, I’m simply being myself.”

He looked at Jaike, waiting for his heart to clench with the usual mix of pain and longing, but he only found himself numb.

Instead, all he could see was a pair of caramel brown eyes, and as soon as he thought of it, his gaze immediately went to the clock on his desk.

Three-thirty.

She had to be sleeping - had to know what a bastard he was.

Much later, as he escorted Jaike to the driveway, she asked, “What’s with all the clock watching?”

He only smiled. “It was nice catching up with you.”

Jaike grinned. “The polite rebuff. I get it.”

Behind them, a woman inside the mansion screamed like she was having an orgasm, and considering the kind of party he had thrown, she probably was.

Jaike’s smile faded.

“This is the real me,” he repeated. “And it’s not your fault.”

“I just wish you had told me about your uncle—”

“And risk you becoming sick of me?”

“I would never have—”

His lips twisted. “Wouldn’t you? You honestly believe that?”

“Just because you share the same blood doesn’t mean you’re like him!”

“Then why did you think you’d end up like your mother?”

She paled.

Her car arrived then, and he opened the door for her, saying evenly, “Good night, Jaike.”

Jaike moved towards her car when she suddenly turned to face him again, saying in a rush, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I would have thought you were like Anthony Carras, but…we’ll never know now, will we?”
 

Dio.

Why did they even have to talk about this?

What was the point?
 

“Even if I had taken the risk,” he bit out, “do you think things would have changed? I’ve seen the way you and Christopoulos looked at each other. It wouldn’t have made a difference if I had risked—”

“
But you didn’t,
and now we’ll never know.” She bit her lip. “Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be between us, but…” Sadness tinged her smile. “I just hope, when the girl meant for you comes into your life, you’ll take the risk for her.”

Her words haunted him even when she was long gone, and they isolated him, making Angelo feel alone despite all the gaiety that surrounded him.

His gaze strayed to the clock.

Five in the morning now.

But still, he stayed where he was.
 

Chapter Eleven

Julieta shot daggers at Angelo as she watched him ascend the stairs at six-thirty in the morning.
Damn you, Angelo Valencia,
she thought for the umpteenth time. The guests had left over half an hour ago, so what had taken him so long to get here?